Through the veil
by Flickering Torch
Summary: a brief series of one-shots on what happens when our favourite characters leave us forever x
1. Sirius

**Sadly, I own nothing**

"Come on, you can do better than that!" he yelled, taunting his cousin. He saw the jet of green light as though in slow motion, yet he couldn't stir his limbs to move, like in those horrible nightmares where you're being chased and you can't run fast enough. In reality, he barely had time to change his expression form mockery to shock.

A cold wave radiated through his body as the beam connected, he felt the weight of himself fall away. He turned to see his body fall in a graceful ark, behind the tattered curtain. A great magnetism had erupted within him, drawing him towards the whispering veil. He gladly followed it.

As he did, his gaze swept the chamber, viewing the scene various order members and death eaters were locked in duels and few seemed to have realized what had happened. Only two people were visibly reacting.

Remus, kind, intelligent Moony. He looked lost, as though the fight had left him. That wasn't right, even as Sirius silently urged him to carry on, Remus lunged and wrapped his eyes around a violently struggling boy.

Harry. Sirius so regretted having to leave his side, that would soon befall his godson, but he knew the boy would pull through. After all, he was the son of James Potter.

As he turned to face the veil once more, he didn't notice Bellatrix slip from the room, nor the deliverance of the order via Dumbledore. All he thought of as he stepped through the curtain was that Padfoot was about to be reunited with his Prongs.

**Hi guys, love it? Hate it? Let me know. Please review or PM me. Constructive criticism welcome**


	2. Fred

**Still don't own Harry Potter, Characters, Settings or J.K. Rowling's brain. *sighs***

"I haven't heard you joke since you were-"the room exploded. Fred was thrown across the corridor like a ragdoll, but he was conscious. He had to know if his friends and brothers were safe. He opened his eyes and saw it. A chunk of rubble balancing precariously above him. Predictably, it toppled towards him.

There was no time to find his wand amongst the debris and utter some spell which might save him.

He didn't feel the pain; the impact was too fast for that. Instead a wonderful peace grasped him. The aches of the hexes he had bore had ceased, the wounds inflicted by flying stone shrapnel no longer stung as he moved. The weight of fatigue lifted and he felt as though he was separated from the world around him by a great distance.

George, Ron, Percy, Harry and Hermione were all looking towards his feet, horrified. Someone groaned and whimpered like an animal but the sight of his body was intriguing. It was bruised and battered and war torn, but a smile played on his lips. He had died happy, gone down fighting, and gone down surrounded by people he loved, gone down with a smile on his face.

Percy threw himself on Fred's body, obscuring him from himself. Once the line of sight was broken a magnetic draw flared, as suddenly as though a switch had been flicked. He looked up and saw that a short distance away, beside George, an archway had appeared. A tatty old curtain was rippling in it, hiding the source of the pull and a gaggle of voices. The more he concentrated on it, the more the world around him disappeared. Behind the arch were tiered steps, running in a circle around the plinth the arch was set upon.

It was as though he was neither in the demolished corridor, nor this strange room. He remembered Ron once telling him of something similar when they'd infiltrated the ministry. They had dueled the death eaters in the room of death within the department of mysteries.

He wondered vaugley if Lily would take care of him the same way his own mother had taken care of harry all these years and heard a tinkling laugh in response, beyond the fluttering material. He took a step towards the increasingly loud voices and followed the flow of energy until he was a step away, he could feel their breath on his face.

To his right was his twin, his soul mate. He would be ok, his family would heal, and they would breathe again. "Give them hell from me, Forge" he whispered before taking the final step, not seeing George look straight through him in confusion.

**You know the drill ;)**


	3. Collin

**Yet again I'm having trouble with the summoning spell, no rights for the works of J.K. Rowling are appearing :/**

"Absolutely no Creevey, go! And you Peakes!" McGonagall hissed, chivying away the underage students.

Peakes fell into line and so did Collin, but when the lines of the houses merged, he saw his chance, in the confusion he slipped behind a pillar in the entrance hall. He watched as all the underage students stampeded up the stone staircase towards the seventh floor in a solid mass of black robes. He spotted Dennis' face, searching the crowd for him, in response, he hid futher into the shadow of the stonework.

A few moments later people ran from the hall, scattering in all directions. A short while later there was a great rumbling as a horde of armour ran past, some looked as though a house elf would fit inside and others were designed for animals but they all ran through the great oak doors to create a front line of defence.

He crouched still for a long time, knowing if he was caught he would be sent home with the others, he wanted to fight, defend his home, his world.

A trembling crash ran through the castle, the defenses had been breeched. Already yells and flashes of light echoed from the grounds. He braced himself and leapt into the fray taking place on the lawns of the castle.

He ducked several beams of light and slid into the path of Dolahov "Little young, aren't you sonny?" he leered. A minor curse shot towards him but he deflected it easily, he had been trained to tackle more by Harry. He savored the brief look of surprise that flashed on the death eater's face but he knew better than to get cocky, this man had killed countless men, woman and children, he was lethal. Dueling him was far from easy and after he displayed a level of skill which shocked even him Collin saw the dreaded flash of green. Dolahov had gotten bored of toying with his prey. Collin was much too close to dodge the curse.

There was a cry of triumph and then a thud. The man stalked towards the boy's twisted body and, using his foot, flipped his head so he was facing the dark sky. "Should have run like all the other filthy little Mudbloods" he spat on the floor, beside Collins head. His head shot up and he loped back into the battle.

Collin looked from his body to the fight, his old DADA teacher, Lupin, was moving so fast it was like he was dancing blur, men in black robes falling in his wake.

An archway he hadn't noticed before met his eyes. A voice sang softly to him and he felt oddly unbalanced, as though his heart should thumping unevenly. He realized this couldn't happen anymore, as if he could hear his mother's voice, he was most certainly dead.

He was torn; his mother was calling, singing the songs she had sung to him as a child, that were half forgotten with age. He couldn't resist it anymore, he stepped tentatively towards the curtain.

"Sorry Harry mate, good luck" he whispered into the heavy air, and he was gone, lost in his mothers song.


	4. Tonks

**Disclaimer: if you recognize it, it's not mine **

"Have you seen Remus?" Tonks begged. "He was planning to lead a group of fighters into the grounds-" she didn't notice who spoke, or hang around to hear the end of the sentence, she was already running.

After braking free of the castle she saw him, three curses flying at him at once. "Protrego" she screamed, a blue ball of protection surrounded him, and all three curses glanced off the sphere, rebounding upon their casters. He looked up in shock. "Dora, you shouldn't be here, Teddy needs you" "He'll sleep 'til dawn and snore like his father" she said, throwing herself into his arms.

They were thrown back into the battle as he deflected a curse and she shot one back at the death eater who sent it. They were separated as they weaved the streams of light. Suddenly three death eaters turned on tons, she swore, raising her wand to fight on. Yaxely fell immediately, his mask skittering away into the night, another of the three fled. She dueled with the remaining man fiercely and in a flash of light, the face of Pius Thickense, Minister for magic was briefly illuminated.

A pain seared across her back so sharply it felt as though it had been carved there with a serrated blade. The curse continued to bleed through her, the knife burrowing deeper. She had allowed the second death eater to circle around her, he would have had a clear view of her undefended back, an amateur mistake, she thought angrily.

"Remus" a deep voice called. Two men ran into her increasingly blurry field of vision as she fought to draw her breath. Remus threw himself to her side, killing the man who struck her down without hesitation, mean while Kingsley fought the minister.

"Dora! What did he do?" the pain ripped at her flesh and bon, corroding her lungs as she gasped rattling breaths "HOW DO I FIX IT DORA?" he yelled. She shook her head slightly. "DON'T YOU DARE GIVE UP NYMPHADORA LUPIN! I love you and you are going to live. Live for me Dora, live for Teddy, he needs his mummy Dora" he appealed.

Didn't he understand that she wanted nothing more than to live and smile and help him raise their son. She shook her head again and he swore.

**Thanks for reading, let me know what you think x**

"Remus" she gasped, her eyes widening. through the thick fog in her eyes she saw a shadow stalk towards her Remus. With the last of her strength she raised her arm and pointed past him. He mistook her warning and pressed her hand to his cheek, his eyes burning. He had not understood the message it had killed her to deliver.

Remus remained crouched over the body of his wife, whilst her soul stod up and backed towards the arch. She watched the black cloaked figure advance, knowing she would not have to wait long for her husband to to join her in death.

The journey on is a solitary one, he would follow when he was ready, she stumbled clumsily towards the sound of her fathers voice. She would only be on the other side of the curtain, after all, ready to meet him again.


	5. Remus

**I own nothing**

Remus knelt over his wife, her eyes focused on him as though from an unimaginable distance. Defiance showed through the tender pain on her face and her hand rose gingerly into the air, hovering at his shoulder. He took pity on her and guided her hand to his face. He saw it. There is a second where something changes, when some spark leaves a familiar face and the person you love most in the world is just … empty.

He wrapped his arms around her delicate frame and pulled her close. His Tonks had not been delicate, Dora was clumsy, loud, full of life, even on their wedding day she had charged down the isle, stumbling in her clunky boots (She had refused to wear anything so feminine as heels) with her spiky bubblegum pink hair ablaze in happiness.

He sobbed and clutched his wife ignoring the war raging around him and the other deaths he could be preventing. He just wanted it to stop.

He tenderly lay out her body and stood, wand at the ready. He saw a figure stalking towards him with a predatory gait. A hood lowered to reveal the head of Fenrir Greyback, face and hair matted with blood. Every problem Remus had ever had stemmed from his condition, being a werewolf, it was Greyback's fault. All the anger and grief and injustice were thrown at the murderer in a roar of rage.

A moment later Greyback had fallen to the floor, unconscious. Remus had raised his wand to end the beast when he sensed movement behind him. He spun round, colliding with the curse. Its effect was almost instant, his knees hit the floor before the rest of his body toppled to the ground, and he just had time to reach for Dora's cold hand before his body gave up. 'We're so sorry Ted' he thought.

Then he was standing again, weightless. Watching the world he was leaving his son to. After the battle it would be a different world, he could feel it, harry would be victorious and help raise that boy as well as he could. If he turned out to be a fraction of the strong, courageous, loving man harry was Remus would be proud, Remus could only hope harry would find the letters he and Dora had written for him. He knew his son would understand that the sacrifices they made were for him.

A great chorus of voices struck up, singular peoples were distinguishable, some he had last heard minutes ago, some over sixteen years and some longer. He had been foolish; of course they would be there, behind the viel, waiting to welcome him home.

**Please, please, please let me know what you think**


	6. Snape

**I do not and probably never will own Harry Potter or JK Rowling's brilliance**

"Take … it … Take … it" he gasped, the memories flooding from him, playing over and over in his mind. The girl conjured a flask and they were gone. "Look … at … me" he whispered.

Snape's grip on the boy's robes was gone. Snape watched with a detached interest as the face of his most hated enemy wept with his soul mates eyes, wondering how the boy would react when he knew everything.

No-one moved until his masters voice rang through the shack. He had known that one day Voldemort would kill him. He was thankful he had survived long enough in the dark lords employ to fulfill Dumbledore's mission. Give the boy the information.

His people would win now, it was inevitable, the boy would sacrifice himself and the girl or the weasel would finish it. There was no draw here for Snape here any more, in this dilapidated shack in this war ridden world. Voice and the memories

A theory of death, studied in the department of mysteries, was that voices of those you loved would beckon you on. Severus believed he would have to find the bravery to make his own way to the veil; he had already begun the trudge towards it when he heard her.

She sounded young; he could hear the smile in her Voice and the memories of the rush of a river by a park and the whisper of the wind in the tall grass beneath their tree. The memories were of a simple time and happiness and sunshine on their faces. When he called back to her it was in the voice of a smiling child in too-short jeans, over large coat and smock who had watched his Lily jump from the swing.

**Possibly my favorite one to write, let me know what you think**


	7. Bellatrix

**I don't' own Harry Potter, its characters, settings and such**

"AVADA KEDAVRA" she screamed, only grinning wider when the girl dodged the curse. After the run in at the ministry she would enjoy killing this one.

"NOT MY DAUGHTER YOU BITCH! OUT OF MY WAY" Molly Weasley cleared the floor as they drew away to allow he passage. Bellatrix mad smile faltered, she wasn't scared, she was a Black, she was a death eater and the Dark Lords favorite. Easley was a challenge she hadn't expected, but she would treat her as she would any other challenge, with haughty distain. The blood traitor warned the others not to help, poor dear thought she would win.

'What will happen to your children when I've killed you?" Bellatrix jeered, a crazed glint to her eye. Molly advanced on her, rage and grief fueling her every move. "You – will – never – touch – our – children – again" Molly roared. Molly's next curse was sent with an awful finality and Bellatrix failed to block it, instead of Crying out she laughed manically. Even as her eyes widened and her body fell away she laughed though no-one could hear her as they cheered and her master screamed.

She sauntered over to the veil, placing a weightless hand on the ancient arch. She turned and winked. "See you on the other side" she cackled, stepping backwards into the applause of countless generations of Blacks.

**Please review; if you have any character requests leave a review or PM me **


	8. Voldemort

**I don't own Harry Potter**

"AVADA KEDAVRA" "EXPELLIARMUS" there was an explosion of colour and sound as the spells collided, the red of the disarming charm and the green of the killing curse and the gold flames they sparked. He knew, he felt the balance of power shift as the elder wand made a bid to serve its true master. It flew in an ark through the hall and the boy plucked it from the air.

Tom riddles eyes rolled back into his head as the curse rebounded. He was braced for the terrible pain he remembered, ready to become a spirit, to find a precious horcruzx the boy had forgotten.

No pain came. There was a final thrump and a wall of noise as the fools heered. He raised his hands to his face and felt not the smooth, serpentine face of Lord Voldemort, but the fine features of the seventeen year old Tom Marvolo Riddle. He felt young and hole and the weight of resentment and insanity had lifted from his stooped shoulders.

He looked at the boy being lost in the crowd but his eyes never left the motionless heap on the floor. He had to admit Dumbledore had trained him well, he had skills beyond the norm. If anyone deserved to live and be great, it was Harry Potter, the man who defeated the dark lord. The boy who lived.

Voldemort shook his head as he stepped through the arch, wondering who would be waiting for him on the other side.

**That's the last one folks, unless anyone has any requests? Hope you enjoyed**


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